CONTRACTED TO THE DEVIL

THE EMERALD TRAP

Chapter 2: The Emerald Trap

​The heavy gold fountain pen felt like an anchor in Elowen’s hand. She stared down at the crisp white paper, her eyes tracking the jagged lines of Julian Crowne’s signature. His ink was already dry, bold and absolute. Hers would seal the trap.

​"I am running out of patience, Elowen," Julian said softly. He was standing right behind her now, his presence casting a long shadow that completely blocked out the glittering lights of the city skyline.

​"Twenty years," she whispered, her voice barely a breath. "You guarantee he won't see a courtroom? Not even a cell?"

​"The files will be completely scrubbed from the federal database by midnight," Julian murmured, his hand settling heavily on her shoulder. The heat of his palm burned straight through the fabric of her coat. "But only if you sign before the clock strikes ten. You have exactly two minutes."

​Elowen closed her eyes, squeezing them shut as a vision of her broken, gray-haired father flashed through her mind. He wouldn't survive a week in a maximum-security prison. She inhaled a sharp, shaky breath, opened her eyes, and pressed the gold nib to the parchment.

​Elowen Vane.

​The loops of her name looked incredibly fragile next to his commanding script. The moment she lifted the pen, Julian smoothly slid the document out from under her fingers. He didn't even look at her signature; he just locked it away into the top drawer of his black marble desk with a definitive, chilling click.

​"It is done," Julian said, turning his slate-gray eyes back to her. A slow, terrifyingly beautiful smile touched his lips. "You are officially under my custody, Elowen."

​"Then I should go pack my things," she said, taking a step backward, desperately needing to put space between them. "I will arrange my affairs and—"

​"You misunderstand the terms of your availability," Julian interrupted smoothly, stepping forward to close the distance she had just made. "Your affairs are already taken care of. A team has emptied your apartment. Everything you actually need is already waiting at my estate."

​Elowen’s heart dropped into her stomach. "You... you already cleared out my home? Before I even signed?"

​"I don't plan for failure," he whispered, his fingers reaching up to trail down the side of her neck, his thumb lingering right over her racing pulse. "You belong to me now. From this very second. My driver is waiting downstairs."

​The ride to the Crowne estate was an agonizing, silent blur. Elowen stared out the window of the blacked-out limousine, watching the familiar streets of the city fade into the high-walled, heavily guarded luxury suburbs of the elite. When the car finally stopped, she looked up at a massive, modern mansion made of dark stone and towering glass panels. It was breathtaking, expensive, and completely suffocating.

​Julian didn't offer his hand as he led her through the grand foyer. The floors were polished white marble, reflecting the golden glow of a massive crystal chandelier above.

​"Your quarters are on the third floor, directly connected to my master suite," Julian instructed as they climbed the sweeping staircase. "The staff answers to me. You do not leave the grounds without my express permission, and you do not receive guests."

​He pushed open a set of heavy double doors at the end of the corridor, revealing a stunning, expansive bedroom done in rich creams and deep charcoals. On the massive king-sized bed sat a single, sleek black box tied with a satin ribbon.

​"What is that?" Elowen asked, her voice tight with defensive anger.

​"Your first private requirement," Julian said, walking over to the bed and untying the ribbon with one smooth pull. He lifted the lid to reveal a breathtaking, form-fitting emerald silk slip dress. It was dangerously low-cut, glamorous, and intensely intimate.

​"There is a charity gala at the museum tomorrow night," Julian murmured, his eyes darkening as he looked from the silk dress back to her. "The entire high-society press will be there. They think the Vane family is ruined, hiding in shame. Tomorrow, you will stand by my side, looking exquisite, and you will tell the world that you are exactly where you choose to be."

​Elowen shook her head, her pride flaring up despite the fear knotting her chest. "And if I refuse to wear it? If I refuse to play your happy little captive in front of the cameras?"

​Julian walked up to her, his hand moving swiftly to the nape of her neck, tilting her head up until she was forced to look directly into his cold, possessive gaze.

​"Then I pull the administrative plug," he whispered against her lips, his breath hot and dangerous. "And your father is arrested before breakfast. Do not test my leniency, Elowen. Put on the dress."